To Be Willing
by DeLacus
Summary: "Reality is merely an illusion, although a very persistent one." Lyrial is murdered by her stalker ex-lover and re-awakens as an elleth in Middle Earth, twenty years after the War of the Last Alliance. Struggling from her abusive past, is she willing to accept her new reality? Eventual ThranduilXOC and GlorfindelXOC.
1. Reminiscing and Finding

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"We are products of our past, but we don't have to be prisoners of it."  
~ Rick Warren, _The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here for?_

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He was a great king, a wise ruler.

He was a powerful warrior, as if he was born with the sword.

He was a dear and loving father, of his three lovely offspring.

He was a caring and passionate husband to his beautiful wife, when she was still alive.

Death had consumed the Elvenking Oropher of Greenwood the Great during the War of the Last Alliance, as it had consumed many.

Seven long years the war had lasted. Seven long damn years, in which the Last Alliance proved victorious, but not without a heavy price.

One third of the Sindarin ranks fell, with slightly over half of the remaining two thirds sustaining terrible injuries that would take quite the time to heal, despite being elves. Similar could be said about the Silvan ranks, as half of them perished in battle. And Valar only knows the numbers upon numbers of men, dwarves and the other races of elves fallen.

It was during the Battle of Dagorlad, in the middle of the sixth year of the war, as Thranduil Oropherion remembered so very clearly. . . . .

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* * *

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The tips of his long and soft platinum blonde hair became an almost black-like red as he plunged his sword into the orc's heart. He was so very tired. Mentally tired. He kicked the now dead orc in the gut to free his sword.

Piercing icy sapphire eyes darted to the left as he swiftly pulled out his dagger and threw it whilst turning his full body to the left. The dagger lodged itself at another orc, in between the eyes. As the orc fell, he moved to quickly retrieve his dagger and shoved it back into its shaft for later use.

"Prince Thranduil! Le adel!"

Said ellon pivoted to the right and raised his sword to block his current attacker. As this orc did not wear a helmet, Thranduil sought the opportunity to punch the orc in the face, causing him to loosen his grip on the sword. Thranduil knocked the orc's sword away and beheaded his opponent.

"Le hannon, Captain!" Thranduil called out, but the Sindarin captain only nodded in acknowledgement as an orc became his new opponent.

The Elven prince quickly analyzed the situation as he fought his next few opponents. The Alliance was clearing the Morannon's plains. They were almost to the Black Gate, where fearsome attack trolls and heavily armed orcs stood guard, waiting for the Alliance's advancement. Thranduil caught a glimpse of his father, King Oropher, and his father's battalion fighting closer to the Black Gate.

He had also caught a glimpse of an orc captain ordering one of the attack trolls standing guard to join the battle.

...

Hearing heavy stomps on the ground, Elvenking Oropher of the Woodland Realm swiftly turned around and prepared himself from the upcoming attack of the troll advancing towards him. The troll roared as it begun its attack on the Elvenking. Oropher blocked it with somewhat ease: The troll was strong and its sword, heavy. He kept blocking the troll's attacks until he sought opportunity.

Oropher pulled out his extremely sharp dagger as he blocked yet another attack with his sword. He swiftly managed to cut through two of the troll's thick fingers, causing the troll to drop its sword and roar in pain. The troll tried to grab Oropher with its uninjured hand, but said king ducked and used the arm of the troll's injured hand to climb the troll. When the ellon managed to get on the troll's back, he stabbed at it. The troll fell to its knees, but it was not dead.

Oropher balanced himself on the troll's upper back and right shoulder. He rose his sword above the troll's neck when he all of a sudden, felt a searing pain through the back of his left shoulder. The Elvenking briefly yelled in pain as an orc arrow pierced the back of his left shoulder. He dodged his head to the right when another arrow whizzed past him. He then raised his sword again above the troll's neck, and brought it down, beheading the troll.

The ellon still stood on the body of the troll and had just realized that not only was the Last Alliance's army advancing forward, but the remaining of the fearsome attack trolls and heavily armed orcs were also advancing forward.

The Noldorin archers were still on the hill tops; firing at the orcs situated at the top of the Black Gate, and using the jagged rocks as protection from incoming arrows.

As soon as Oropher jumped from the troll, another arrow pierced him on his side. He took a few steps back and swore in Elvish, as he broke the arrow shaft in half.

...

Thranduil panicked when the second arrow pierced his father. It had probably hit a vital organ. It was more than likely poisoned, too.

The Sindarin prince growled as he tried to fight his way through the heavily armed orcs, complete with thick armour. He noticed a troll advancing towards him, and prepared himself, when an arrow whizzed past his right ear and lodged itself into the incoming troll's left eye.

Thranduil turned his head slightly to the right and noticed Aeluin, his younger brother by three hundred years, notching two arrows on his bow and taking aim.

The arrows released as the troll roared.

…

Thranduil walked slow, weary steps along the Morannon. The bodies of the dead seemed to go on as far as the eye can see. Most likely farther, too. And then there was that stench that seemed like a thick fog, blanketing the entire area. . . . .

He then stood by his father; who was bloodied, deathly pale, with an orc sword protruding through his abdomen. There was a deep gash across his throat, and a trickle of blood down the right side of his lips. Oropher's widely opened eyelids displayed ethereal sapphire eyes that seemed to be focused on something non-existent in the sky. The Sindar prince continued to look into those eyes.

Thranduil did not grieve. He would save that for another time.

He felt a presence in front of him and caught a glimpse at the orc sword unsheathing from his father's body and being thrown away. The ellon that did this fell on both knees and slightly hunched over the late Elvenking with ragged breaths. Thranduil turned his gaze towards the familiar head of long and slightly bloodied platinum blonde hair.

_Aeluin. . . . ._

Thranduil knelt down on one knee and gently placed his right hand over their father's eyes, closing his eyelids. He glanced at Aeluin, who tried to control his sobs, and stood up.

With a solid straight posture and a right hand over his heart, Thranduil looked at Oropher: "Adar, may you find eternal peace and happiness with naneth within the Halls of Mandos."

"Muindor?"

Thranduil looked towards the ellon who called him. Aeluin looked up at his older brother with icy blue eyes of vengeance and determination. The now unofficial King of Greenwood returned the gaze with no emotion. He then nodded, turned and walked. . . . .

. . . . . Before Aeluin could see a lone tear running down his cheek.

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* * *

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Thranduil sat on his large, antler-like throne, in his halls of Eryn Galen. He rapidly blinked thrice, for he had just awoke from a somewhat deep elven sleep. _But that was twenty-one years ago_. _Why do I dream of that now_?

The young Elvenking pondered for a bit: What did Galion inform him of earlier? Oh, right! His older sister by two hundred and fifty years shall be returning in a few days' time from her visit in Imladris.

_Ah, dear __Thranéal._

"You would think muinthel fancies some elf at Imladris, with all of her constant and joyous visits there," Aeluin strolled in with a smile, almost reading his brother's thoughts. "I daresay a certain Balrog slayer."

Thranduil smirked, "She would deny it."

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* * *

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Thranéal exited the forest of Lothlórien atop her trotting, glowing white Elven stallion. She was currently smiling, as she had just found out that her friend, the High March warden Haldiron, was going to be a father.

Thranéal loved elflings. They were beyond adorable. Too much for words. She would squeal in delight and her younger brothers would cover their ears.

She found the light breeze ever so refreshing, as it whipped her beautiful and long pale golden hair. She then brought her stallion, Eryn, into a full gallop across the grassy plains.

About halfway the distance from Lórien to Greenwood, Thranéal halted Eryn, who snorted. The Greenwood Princess hurriedly dismounted and made way to the unconscious figure a few feet away.

She gracefully dropped to her knees and examined the figure: A simple and thin plain white dress that surprisingly did not seem dirty. Long and straight platinum blonde hair that looked intensely soft. Thranéal checked the figure's ears, only to see that they were pointed.

"What is an elleth doing here, for I did not see any since leaving Lórien?" Thranéal pondered. Assuming that, and the intense cleanliness of this unconscious elleth, it was as though she had just appeared.

Eryn just snorted and stomped his hoof in impatience.

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* * *

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Le Adel – Behind You

Le Hannon – Thank You

Adar – Father

Naneth – Mother

Muindor – Brother (Family)

Muinthel – Sister (Family)

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	2. The First Day of Her New Life

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*** Note I – _**Italics are thoughts; HOWEVER, italics as dialog means that the characters are speaking in Sindarin. On another note, Sindarin that is actually written in Sindarin will NOT be italicised.**_ In all honesty, I'd rather not do the italicised English-Sindarin thing, and rather write the Sindarin in the actual language. I can't find either the direct translation for some phrases; or, I don't really have the time to gather the words, learn the grammar, and properly form sentences. ***

*** Note II – Apologies for the later update: Grade Twelve is demanding~ ;_; ***

*** Note III – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic, it really lifts my spirits~! You people are awesome~! :D ***

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"Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin."  
~ Mother Teresa

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She woke up to an eyeful of bright oranges, yellows and purples. _Dawn_? She thought, _how long was I asleep_? _Wait, 'asleep_?_'_ _I died_! She felt weak as she attempted to sit up, so she stayed on her back. She turned her head to both sides and adjusted her eyes to her surroundings.

The grass was very green and the sky was clear, save for a few white clouds. The air seemed to be quite light and free of pollution; as she could easily sniff out the greenery, and the trees in the far distance. It was quite refreshing for her. There was a freshly made fire a few feet from her side.

Her body allowed her to sit up this time, and so she did, as she stretched her arms in front of her. She noticed that she was wearing a long and thin plain white dress, the style of it not being something she was familiar with. She ran a hand through her straight, platinum blonde hair and became puzzled as she brought some of that hair to her front, down her left shoulder. The last time she had checked, her hair came mid-back; but now, it came to her waist.

She gazed down and noticed that she had been "sleeping" on a lovely, hooded turquoise travelling cloak. The cloak had intricate golden leaf patterns on its edges that shined in the sun, which became much more noticeable in the sky.

A soft whinny brought her attention to the other side of the fireplace: There was a white stallion that seemed to glow. He was sitting and nibbling at some grass, but then turned his attention towards the elleth when she rose. Eryn stared at her intently yet curiously, and she stared back.

"_I see that you are awake_," stated a feminine voice, in a language the elleth had never heard of before.

Said voice became a radiant woman of graceful steps, as she sat cross-legged near the fireplace and began to skin a rabbit. The elleth observed her actions, but was entranced by the woman's long and wavy pale blonde hair that glowed in the now sun-filled blue sky. It was up, almost like a high ponytail, but hung much more loosely. There were a few smaller braids that looked delicate and some of those came down her front right shoulder. It was then the elleth realized that this woman had pointed ears, and was therefore not really a woman. _So, she's an elf_? _But they don't exist_!

Thranéal placed her knife down and picked up a long and smooth stick, to pierce through the now-skinned somewhat large rabbit. She held onto the end of the stick as she had the rabbit hover over the fire. Thranéal turned her head towards the lost-looking elleth, who seemed to be observing her. The elleth flinched a bit and casted her eyes downwards.

"Man i enetheg?" Thranéal inquired softly.

The elleth seemed confused and she panicked slightly, but then met her purple, amethyst-like eyes to Thranéal's deep turquoise eyes. "I – I'm sorry. I am completely unfamiliar with the language you're speaking."

Thranéal smiled, "Well, you are in luck, for I also speak in the Common Tongue!" She dropped her smile and cocked her head to the side. "But how can you not know the language of your people? Unless you speak in a different Elvish tongue?"

It was the elleth's turn to cock her head to the side and furrowed her brows. "'My people?' 'Elvish?' But I am a human!"

Thranéal straightened her head and stared at the elleth with a deadpanned expression. "If your pointed ears are not obvious enough for that fact, then I do not know what is."

The elleth quickly rose both hands to her ears and gave a small gasp. They were pointed. This slightly made more sense to her, with the fact that her hair was longer and her senses seemed heightened. Her voice also seemed softer and lighter. _I probably grew too. Hurray for not being short_! As a human she stood at five feet and five inches: Not really considered short, be she had felt short.

The platinum blonde elleth stood up and picked up Thranéal's turquoise cloak. She estimated that she stood at five feet and seven or eight inches. Eryn whickered and also stood up, but did not move. Thranéal beckoned the elleth towards her, and she complied. _Why, oh, why am I bare-footed_?! The elleth felt awkward with that fact but was glad that the grass felt like pillows, despite tickling her feet. She plopped down beside Thranéal and gave her back her cloak, who in turn, gave her the stick with the readily cooked rabbit.

Thranéal had a feeling on what the elleth was going to ask, so she shook her head. "My stomach does not required food at the moment. I have some bread and fruit stashed in the packs on Eryn, my horse. I had assumed you to be very hungry. . ." As if on cue, the elleth's stomach growled furiously and she blushed lightly, to which Thranéal smirked.

The elleth thanked Thranéal and began eating. Thranéal stood up, tied her cloak around her and walked to her horse. Eryn nuzzled into her left hand when she brought it up and seemed delighted. Thranéal reached into a pack and brought out a red apple with her other hand and fed it to the horse.

"Now, as I have asked you before in Sindarin," Thranéal started and snickered at the memory of the elleth's beyond-confused face, "May I know your name?"

The still-hungry elleth, who had already finished eating the rabbit, looked up. "My name's Lyrial."

Thranéal turned around and tossed an apple towards Lyrial, who caught it with ease. "That is a unique name. It sounds Elvish, yet, I have not heard anything of the like before." Lyrial smiled but became fearful. Most people in her past have made fun of her name, saying that it was 'weird' and not 'common enough.' Currently, she did not know what to do or really say: _Would she even believe me of my situation_? She hoped that Thranéal would not ask her of her origins and whatnot.

"I will save you your breath and not ask you anything private now. Your harmlessness is obvious," Thranéal began, "But you shall have to answer those questions to my brother, the king of the realm I am – or rather we – are travelling too."

Lyrial bobbed her head in acknowledgement and panic struck her amethyst eyes. She could lie, tell the truth, or do both. She did not want to be considered a crazy, lying lunatic and then thrown into prison. She collected herself and asked, "So, you're a princess?"

Thranéal nodded, "Of Eryn Galen, known in the Common Tongue as Greenwood the Great. I am Thranéal."

"And that is where we're going?"

"Yes. You can see it from here." The Sindar princess drank some water from her water skin and pointed to a large vast land of forest in the distance behind Lyrial, who turned to view it.

Lyrial turned forwards and stood up to stretch her now long legs. "Where are we, exactly?"

"In the Wilderlands."

_So that's the area_. . . "What about the continent?"

"'Continent?'"

"The land mass."

"Middle-Earth." Thranéal was shocked, but did not press the matter. How could this elleth not know?

Lyrial, on the other hand, was surprised. She had died and re-awoke in another world, where elves and possibly other beings lived? _I wonder if dragons exist here_ . . .

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* * *

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They had travelled through a distance of grassy plains with Eryn happily trotting. Lyrial found it quite uncomfortable to be sitting on a horse with a leg on either side whilst wearing a dress, so she sat side-saddle. _I hate side saddle, but it's better than having this dress ride up my legs_. Lyrial held her arms securely around Thranéal's waist.

They had stopped briefly as their path became blocked by a band of thirty well-equipped human soldiers, a few of them held longer spears with a blue-black flag of a white tree and stars. The man at the front had more intricately designed armour and was very regal-looking, an aura of royalty. This man had rose a right fist to his heart and slowly released it, giving a nod to Thranéal as she did the same. An Elvish greeting gesture.

Lyrial, however, was attracted to a certain golden ring that was hanging on a thin silver chain around the man's neck, for all to see. Despite it being a simple golden band, it was quite beautiful, and it shined ever so brightly.

A whistle brought Lyrial's attention to a few of those soldiers, who stared at her with suggestive smirks. She was puzzled until she glanced down to her clothing, and blushed as the direct sunlight made her thin white dress almost see-through. She looked up with narrowed eyes and held up her middle finger to those soldiers, who then had puzzled faces. _Ha_! _They probably don't what this means_. _Sucks for themmm_. The soldiers looked away, Lyrial triumphantly smirked and Thranéal giggled.

When the last of the soldiers on their well-groomed brown horses passed by, Thranéal brought Eryn into a light gallop.

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* * *

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"Those men back there," Lyrial began, "Thranéal, do you know their leader? The one who greeted you?"

The trio swiftly arrived at the Greenwood forest gate and Thranéal brought her Elven stallion to a trot. They were now travelling through a path the elves have made for easy and quick access to the Eryn Galen kingdom. The trees were condensed, but Lyrial found it quite comfortable. Some of the leaves seem to be turning colour. _It's autumn_?

Thranéal sighed. "Briefly. He, his father and their army fought together with my peoples' and many others. That was the son of Elendil: Isildur, the High King of Gondor."

"That ring that he wore around his neck was quite the sight."

Lyrial could not see, but Thranéal's eyes hardend and she mockingly scoffed. "He should have destroyed it when he had the chance. That ring is pure evil. And now he has claimed it as an heirloom to his kingdom. The fool!"

Lyrial was confused; so she asked Thranéal, who gave a mini story-telling session about the great rings, Sauron and the War of the Last Alliance. She had even mentioned the death of her father to which Lyrial offered her condolences and tightened her grip around Thranéal's waist to hug her in comfort. _Wait, should I even be hugging her_?

"Valar, child! How could you not have known that? Where were you when all of this happened?"

Lyrial loosed her grip. "I couldn't have. I'm not from around here. . ."

And she left it.

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* * *

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She was impressed as they approached the gates of the Elvenking's cave, and was in awe as they entered it. Lyrial whipped her head up and down and side to side, like a kid in a chocolate shop, to which Thranéal giggled and glanced at her in amusement.

The cave did not entirely look like a cave, as it had shades of browns and looked as though many trees had woven together. There were flowers and plants adorning it, many of which Lyrial had never seen before. There had seemed to be a golden shine, or sparkle even, throughout the cave. Lyrial wondered why that was, so when she closely inspected one of the walls, she had found small, intricate golden nature-like patterns adorning it. _Damn, this had probably taken awhile to carve in_. . . .

Lyrial had also discreetly ogled every elven-guard who happened to gracefully pass by. _Why are they all so damn gorgeous_?! _It's not fair_!

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* * *

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Standing before the Elvenking of Greenwood in his halls, Lyrial felt intimidated, even with Thranéal right beside her.

The young elleth curiously observed Thranduil when he and Thranéal engaged in a short Sindarin conversation. Lyrial found him to be simply ethereal, an embodiment of regal majesticness. _It doesn't quite help that he's breathtakingly attractive_. _What if he's a jerk_? She had noticed an autumn-themed crown upon his head of platinum blonde hair. It was of stylized twigs – maybe not, but it seemed that way to her – with carefully woven in leaves and red berries. _Are those berries real_? _If so, I wonder if he snacks on them_.

The Sindar king then bore his intent eyes towards the curious elleth, who slightly blushed and looked at the floor. Her bare feet had begun to feel uncomfortable on the hard stone floors.

"My sister had just informed me of her finding of you," the Elvenking began with an unreadably neutral expression. "'Lyrial' she said is your name. I am Thranduil, king of Greenwood. Lyrial, how did you end up unconscious in the middle of the Wilderlands? From where do you hail from? I can perhaps send an escort with you to your homeland . . . ?"

Lyrial snapped her head up at the Sindar king. The questions she had been dreading had been asked; and she did not want to lie, as it would have caused problems later on. Thranduil seemed like he meant well and Thranéal had been kind to her, but Lyrial was not sure as to how they, or the others in the large room, would handle her information.

"You're Highness, I don't know how I got to be lying unconscious in the Wilderlands . . ." She stopped for a moment and felt queasy.

"Continue."

_Prior to waking up in this world, I was stabbed twice and killed_. _But they don't have to know that_. _He probably wouldn't even care for a stranger_. Lyrial felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

"I was in a hurry to get somewhere, I don't remember where to or what for. I messed up my footing, fell down some stairs and was knocked out cold. When I awoke, I found myself in this world." Lyrial felt embarrassed that she briefly portrayed herself as a klutz, yet she definitely did not want to explain her murder. She would have ended up crying in front of all of these elves.

Thranduil began to feel suspicious, and maybe a little puzzled, but kept his unreadable expression. "You just mentioned 'world.' Care to elaborate?" Although it was much more of a demand than a question.

Lyrial took a deep breath. "I, uh, had absolutely no knowledge nor familiarity of Middle-Earth, or even what this whole world is called. Because I came from a different world of higher technological advancements, known as 'Earth.' It is a world inhabited by humans: Elves did not exist; and if other humanoid or magical beings live here in this world, they would not have existed in mine. I had no idea that I was an elf until your sister had pointed it out, for up until I woke up this early dawn, I was a human of twenty-five years."

She levelled her head straight, amethyst eyes boring into the stairs that led up to the bejewelled antler-like throne. Lyrial suddenly felt self-conscious, as she heard some of the elven-guard covering up small laughs and whispering to each other in mock amusement. The hurt elleth, although not understanding Sindarin, knew that they were saying some not very nice things about her.

Lyrial heard a rustle of clothing and footsteps, to which Thranduil made way to her sight and stood at the base of his throne-steps. She casted her eyes to the floor after quickly glancing at the Elvenking's expression. It was of the same neutrality. _But why do his eyes look so angry_?

Thranduil took a few steps towards her. "And should I take your word? How do I know that you are not lying?"

Lyrial snapped her eyes towards the ellon in shock, but quickly recomposed herself. Her anger, however, was visible on her features. "I do not expect you or anyone else to fully believe me; but I assure you, I am not lying. If I was, I wouldn't have said what I had said."

Thranduil, now standing a few feet from her, rebutted: "Or you could have said what you have said in order to cover up true motives. Possibly true motives in which are not entirely your own."

Her eyes widened in shock but then narrowed, meeting the Elevenking's. Lyrial's hands were slightly shaking at her sides. She did not like where this argument was leading to. "In all honesty, Elvenking Thranduil, I don't know what you are talking about. Are you implying that I am a –"

"A spy for the enemy? Yes. That is exactly what –!" Thranduil interrupted, finally raising his voice, only to have his older sister interrupt him.

"Muindor, I highly doubt these assumptions to be true!" Thranéal rose her voice above Thranduil's and continued with her arms crossed, "I have been battling the enemy since before you were even conceived, so I think I know an enemy spy when I see one! She was genuinely lost and unknowing of this world; otherwise, I would have brought her here in shackles!"

It was now Lyrial's turn to shout. She hated this; the energy was too hostile. She had blinked back a few tears yet again. "I understand what you are getting at, but how can you say that about me?! I honestly mean no harm, I mean, how could I?! Princess Thranéal is right, I was genuinely lost and unknowing and even scared! And I still am! You don't know anything about me, so what actual right do you have to call me something I'm not?! You have no right! An enemy spy and liar? How dare you call me those! How dare you assume such bullshit about me! How dare you put me in this unfavourable position!"

Deep breaths and a silent room.

She wanted to cry and rid her current feelings, but she decided against it. _Never in front of them_. _In front of him_. _That jerk of jerks_.

The elven-guard present were shocked. Galion, the butler, was in shock. The king was almost never talked to in this manner, voice raised, pointing his faults and injustices and all. Thranduil's eyes widened in fury and clenched his teeth. Only Thranéal smirked at her brother and is quietly cheering for Lyrial to put him in place.

The Elvenking narrowed his eyes at the livid elleth. "'How dare me,' you shout? Elleth, who do you think you are?! How dare you to shout at me in this manner, you Valardamned –!"

"I don't care! I don't care who you are! I will stand up and protect my rights by any legal means necessary! YOU ARE NOT MY KING AND I SHALL NEVER SEE NOR CONSIDER YOU AS ONE!"

Her throat felt dry and she coughed a bit.

Some of the elven-guard gasped at those daring remarks.

Galion did not know what to think.

Thranéal could not help but actually smile, for she was both still silently cheering for Lyrial, and was quite amused by this. She dropped the smile, however, when Thranduil advanced towards Lyrial.

Lyrial gave a small cry when the ellon grabbed her chin and yanked her head upwards, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Oh will you, now?" Although he did not really expect an answer. She felt like a scared child all of a sudden, as certain memories passed through her head. _What is he doing, staring into my eyes like that_? Lyrial felt a presence in her mind, like it was trying to get in and read her. She stared into Thranduil's eyes; those beautiful icy sapphire eyes . . . Oh, she could get lost in them. _Wait, he's trying to get into my mind_ . . . _He's trying to read me_! Lyrial tried to fight off the presence attempting to penetrate her mind and gave a small whimper as her chin and lower jaw began to hurt from the pressure of his grip.

"I cannot read you," Thranduil whispered gently. "Why is that so . . . ?" He furrowed his brows in confusion, but soon let his impatience show itself. He roughly released Lyrial's lower jaw and her head snapped back a bit.

Thranduil gave a mocking smirk. "I am your king for as long as you will be here. That, and I highly doubt you will leave anytime soon." He turned away and began walking to the stairs to his throne. Lyrial knew what he was getting at, but still could not entirely believe his following command: "She is to be sent to the prison and guarded for extra precaution!"

Thranéal made a mental note to have words with her brother.

Lyrial did not know what to think. She advanced towards Thranduil. "Really, Thranduil? Do you really think –?"

A sharp point to her back halted her steps and her words, followed by a calm yet commanding voice. "Do not even think about continuing. And you will not refer to the Elevenking in such a manner without his title."

"Captain Siraphin!" Thranéal called out in a slight panic, "I highly doubt that the use of weapons is necessary."

The golden-haired captain reluctantly sheathed his shining, almost white Elven sword and took a few steps backwards. He turned and, in Sindarin, ordered two young ellon to escort the "liar of an elleth" to the prison.

And so the three of them made way through the dark corridors.

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* * *

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She had been sitting in the dark cell for ten minutes and already she felt cold. The stones were almost ice-cold, the breeze freezing and yet it was quite comfortable for the guards outside of her cell. The fact that she had a thin dress and was bare-footed did not quite help her in anyway.

The two elven-guards outside of her cell never really spoken any words with her, but had a few lively conversations here and there with each other. Lyrial could not see very well in the dark, but she had noticed that the darker-haired ellon almost looked reluctant to actually shove her into the cell. _Maybe he also disagreed with that dick of a king_. _Hmmmm _. . . _Wouldn't entirely count on that_.

Throughout the time – now she has been sitting there for about an hour – Lyrial had to blink back her tears that keep threatening to come out. She wished that the two guards outside would leave so that she would release her emotions in private. The dark had reminded her of some unsavory past memories and she buried her face into her knees, but still did not cry.

Lyrial heard some loud talking in Sindarin and looked up to see that her guards walked away, most likely returning soon. She sighed in relief as she now had her temporary privacy. She let her tears fall and quite sobs escaped her delicate yet daring mouth.

To which she cried herself to sleep.

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* * *

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"_You have something to say, so please say it_."

The elven-royals were the only two left in the throne room. Thranéal looked up at a sitting Thranduil, with her arms crossed. "_I do, but you will not want to listen_."

"_I will. You are my elder sister and I respect you greatly_."

"_But you will not acknowledge it, so I will not restate the obvious_. _Anyways, you could have held her in a proper room, guarded_. _Is not the prison a bit much_?"

"_I will keep her there until I see fit_."

Thranéal sighed in annoyance with a hand on the side of her head. "Dôl gîn lost, le pen-channas," She muttered and stormed out of the room.

Shortly after, Thranduil sighed and descended the steps, and made way to his study.

_But how was I unable to read her_?

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* * *

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Man I Enetheg? – What Is Your Name?

Muindor – Brother (Family)

Dôl Gîn Lost – Your Head Is Empty

Le Pen-Channas – You Idiot

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	3. Various Conversations

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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic, it really lifts my spirits~! You people are awesome~! :D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the too-awesome-for-words Tolkien universe. I only own my OCs – Lyrial, Thranéal, Aeluin, Arayan, Siraphin, Ciertan, Cierdan, and Eryn. ***

*** Note III – I meant to publish this last weekend, but stuff came up. That, and I kept having to switch the order of events for this one . . . Le sigh~ ***

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* * *

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"You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past."  
~ Chuck Palahniuk, _Survivor_

_._

* * *

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"_Again_, mellon nîn!"

"Aeluin!" An ellon groaned, picked up his sword and sheathed it. "_You have beaten me three times_. _I am leaving_!"

The icy blue-eyed Sindar prince watched with amusement as his close childhood friend scrunched up his nose, turned and walked.

It was another sunny day, only with a few more clouds in the sky, and a comforting yet slightly chilly breeze in the wind. The leaves on the trees were beginning to look more obvious in their change of colour, and some of them floated gently along the training grounds.

Aeluin snickered. "Ha! _Please do remind me why Thranduil gave you the rank of 'captain,' Arayan_! _Surely it is not due to giving up_?"

Arayan's right eye twitched, and he swiftly turned whilst unsheathing his Elven sword, to which Aeluin displayed a cheeky smile.

An uplifting call of "Suil!" halted the beginnings of their fourth sparring match, and a smiling Thranéal sporting an emerald and white dress came into view.

"Ae, muinthel!" Aeluin greeted and sheathed his sword. He walked up to his sister and gave her a hug, and she returned it.

Arayan sheathed his sword and continued in Aeluin's place with a soft smile. "_We wanted to greet you yesterday, but you were occupied_. . ."

Thranéal released her hug, walked over to Arayan, and gave him a short hug. "_I apologize_. _It was late and Thranduil had put me in a sour mood_."

Aeluin piped up, switching to Common Tongue. "Regarding that elleth? 'Lyrial' is her name, correct?"

Thranéal turned to face her brother and rose a brow. "Yes. I was not aware that you were present."

"I was observing from the back of the room. That elleth is quite the attractive sight."

Both princess and friend deadpanned at the prince. "Aeluin Oropherion, no flirting!"

Said ellon cringed at their reaction. "I was not planning on it." _Ha, it is worth a try, though_. . .

"I have heard some servants and many of my new recruits speaking ill of her," Arayan spoke up and ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair. "Word gets out fast and it is quite displeasing to hear those words."

Thranéal widened her eyes in surprise and scoffed. "I have as well! From servants, healers, guards, soldiers and even the advisors. The nobility probably know of this as well. I tell them to shut their mouths. They do but continue when they think I am out of hearing range. It is quite infuriating!"

"This would not have happened if Thranduil had not said what he had said," Aeluin mentioned. "By the way, did you have plans on visiting her? I want to come when you do."

"I was planning on doing so after greeting you two," Thranéal answered. "And yes, you may come, but do not do or say anything stupid. Flirting is an example."

Arayan stifled a laugh and Aeluin glared at him, to which the captain gave off an innocent smile.

"Arayan," Thranéal began, "Do you want to accompany us?"

"I would if I did not have to train some new recruits," Arayan responded. "But I shall walk with you until we pass the barracks."

And so they walked a steady pace with Thranéal in between both ellyn. There were a few other ellyn and ellith within the training grounds honing their skills with their elvish weapons, and had either bowed or nodded their heads in acknowledgment as the captain and two elven-royals passed by.

"How are your recruits, Arayan?" Thranéal questioned, "I want to watch them some time."

The emerald-eyed captain answered: "They are a promising bunch consisting of twenty ellyn and five ellith, and are currently being put through stamina and endurance tests. Although, the ellith of this group are quite fierce. . ."

Aeluin then spoke up with humor in his voice. "I swear it is like they compete against each other as ellyn against ellith! It is quite amusing. Especially when many of those ellyn become fearful of the ellith's fierceness."

"It is!" Arayan gave a short laugh. "There is this one young elleth within the group who has recently came of age. Her name is Tauriel and she puts many in that group to shame."

Thranéal smiled. "Ah, that is pleasing to hear. I should like to meet her someday." Her smile then turned into a playful smirk. "I am suddenly reminded of the time I put Aeluin to shame with everything."

The Sindar prince glared at his sister but decided to return the smirk. _So this is how you want to play_. "Dear Thranéal, I was but an elfing by then. As soon as I turned of age, I began putting you to shame in some areas."

"_Some_ areas. My skills with a blade still places yours to shame."

"My skills with a bow, however, places yours to shame."

"My skills in the arts of healing places yours to shame."

"My skills as a rider places yours to shame."

"I am a much more effective communicator."

"I can shoot a target to my back without having to look at it."

Arayan had been smirking in amusement as his emerald eyes darted from one to another as they said their bits, and piped up, "I think it is safe to assume that my maturity places both of yours to shame."

The siblings mock-glared at the captain, and had given off a short laugh as Arayan procured yet another seemingly innocent smile.

The barracks came into sight, as did a group of young elves wearing their simple training clothes of white tunics, burgundy breeches and dark brown boots. With a short exchange of "Na lû, mellyn nîn!" Arayan made way towards his recruits.

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* * *

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The elven-siblings strolled through a long, neatly carved white-stoned and open-arched hallway that led to the palace. A few blue jays chirped and flew in and out of the hallway, their glossy blue feathers shining in the sunlight. One landed on Thranéal's left shoulder, and she spoke soothing Elvish to it while gently patting its' delicate head.

"Thranéal, how was Imladris?" The elleth glanced at Aeluin's side profile and noticed mischief in his eye.

She, however, ignored that and responded rather enthusiastically, "It was absolutely splendid, as per usual!"

"Do tell." He was egging her on for something.

"Such fun elves they are! Oooooh, and –" The princess droned on about Celebrian's storytellings of Elrond's embarrassing moments. And something about Lindir getting chased by a herd of bunnies . . . But Aeluin was focused on a particular name she has yet to mention, to tease his older sister with.

"And how goes the Balrog Slayer?" Aeluin had asked this with a straight face, yet trying desperately to hold back an amused smile. He did smirk, however, when Thranéal blushed slightly. _Oh, spot on, Aeluin_! _You cannot hide that barely recognizable blush from me, dear sister_!

Thranéal became annoyed by her brother. "Aeluin, cease your immaturity! We are only friends!" Due to her shouting, the blue jay flew from her shoulder, joining its kind in the skies.

Aeluin stated with a smile: "You love him."

"As a dear and close friend! If I recall, I think he is my closest male friend. . ."

"You love him. I have seen the way you look at him."

"I mean he was always there for me when I was in sorrow. . ."

"You love him."

"He helped me train to become one of the best elven sword-wielders in Arda. . . "

"You love him."

"He is very good company and a pleasingly enjoyable ellon. . ."

"You. Love. Him."

"Valar, Aeluin! Are you even listening?"

He masked his smile with a mock-sincere expression. "Of course I am. And I can conclude the following: You are in love with Glorfindel." He then broke out in a light-hearted expression.

Thranéal sighed. "If I admit the truth, will you cease the teasing?"

"Yes."

"Lies! You forget, I know you too well."

_Damn_. . . "I will not tease you when others are in hearing range, then."

She glared at him, but then looked straight ahead with a serene expression, and had felt calm all of a sudden. "Fair enough. I do, indeed, love Glorfindel."

She felt strong arms wrap around her left side in a comfortable brotherly hug, and she smiled softly as her younger brother's forehead came resting at the side of her head. Thranéal rose her right hand and gently patted the ellon's head. "I missed it when you were shorter," She mused.

"Muinthel; although I am displaying sincere affections towards you, I am rarely truly sincere. So remember this moment, because as of right now, I think that feeling is leaving me to tease you again."

Thranéal giggled and lightly smacked Aeluin's head, to which he detached from her and gave a pout on his attractive features.

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* * *

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It was still cold.

And it was still dark.

Save for a few rays of sunlight outside of her cell.

Prisons located in caves did not help with determining the time of day either.

Lyrial emptied the contents of her water-glass and placed it on her emptied food tray. She stood up to stretch her legs and paced a bit to transfer the feeling back into them. She then stood leaning against the hard stone wall close to the cell door and stared out of it. There was nothing interesting she could really look at; the guards' backs were to her, and the opposite wall consisted of more stone and prison cells. _At least my period came and went before I ended up here_. _That would've been awkward_. _I wonder, what do ellith do when they get their period_? _Is it different from a human woman's period_? _Are there some sort of make-shift pads_? _I highly doubt they have anything of a make-shift tampon _. . . _I really want to know_. _Why do I really want to know_?

The elleth contemplated menstrual cycles in Middle-Earth for an additional ten minutes, but it felt like twenty. She has not even been in this cell for twenty-four hours, and yet it felt like a week to her. She thought that last night's cold would give her a fever or something, but apparently being an elf prevented that.

Lyrial turned her head to the darker-haired ellon. "Excuse me? How late into the day is it?"

"Not late at all, actually," He responded and turned halfway to her. "It is about early afternoon."

She thanked him and he offered her a small smile. "When do you think the ass – I mean, king, will release me?"

"That I cannot say," The elf turned to her fully. "But I hope it is soon. It is quite infuriating to be wrongfully imprisoned."

"So you don't think I'm lying, or an enemy spy?" Lyrial had asked this hopefully and the ellon just nodded his response.

"Muindor, _why do you believe her_?" The lighter-haired guard spun to face the other and Lyrial gasped, for they looked exactly the same. They had the same height, the same slim yet toned bodies, the same youthfully attractive facial features, and even the same jade green eyes. She was glad that their hair made it quite obvious to tell them apart: One had straight, gorgeous platinum _white_ hair that seemed as a halo in the dark; and the other had straight, luscious raven black hair that looked really shiny. The platinum white-haired ellon continued. "_You should not speak with her_. _She will only continue with her lies_!"

The other glowered at his younger twin brother. "_She has not spoken any lie thus far_. _Do not assume such things_._ And, I will speak to her when I want too_." The younger twin scowled at Lyrial and abruptly turned to his original guarding position.

The older twin gave the elleth an apologetic look. "I apologize for my brother's behavior."

"No worries." Lyrial had said this with her eyes casted to the stone floor. She did not understand Sindarin as of yet, but the younger twin's tone and expression had said it all. She then yawned and looked back up, and decided to ignore the younger twin. The older twin was courteous enough. She gave a small smile. "You seem like someone I can get along with splendidly. Can we be friends?"

The younger twin whipped his head to Lyrial in anger-shock, then to his older brother, but quickly recomposed himself and turned his head straight ahead with an unreadable expression. The older twin, however, smiled. "That was random. Anyways, I wanted to inquire the same! My name is Cierdan, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lyrial."

"Likewise!"

"My brother is Ciertan, but ignore that grumpy elf. Will you please tell me about this world you are from?"

_So 'Dan' is Mr. Friendly, and 'Tan' is Mr. Grumpy_ . . . Lyrial was surprised that he actually wanted to know, and then was pleased. "Alrighty, then! The world I come from, 'Earth,' is divided into seven continents, large land masses of different regions of cultures and varieties of humans, their languages, and animals. Within these continents are many countries. I was born and raised on the continent of 'North America,' specifically in the country known as 'Canada,' and –" Cierdan listened with curious interest as Lyrial explained the concept of country borders and government systems on Earth, like democracies and authoritarians, and how most of the countries do not have a full monarchy. The ellon asked about the countries with a monarch, to which she responded by stating that the monarch would then not have full power. She gave her home country as an example; mentioning the Queen as a figurehead, governing power lasting within the Prime Minister and Parliament; yet the county's people having the 'actual power.' She told of the sky-high buildings and of cars as well.

"And I shall stop here for now."

Cierdan looked at her with sparkling jade green eyes. "That was fairly interesting, and unlike anything I have heard. Do you miss your home world?"

Lyrial smiled at first, then dropped it. "There are many aspects of it that I miss. . ." _I shall later tell you of the wonders of chocolate and electricity_. ". . . but in all honesty, I'd rather be here in this new life. Even if I'm currently in prison."

Cierdan did not ask why and Lyrial was thankful, for she was not comfortable with sharing her past. Her legs became tired from standing so she slid down, her back still against the hard wall. A short minute later, she heard loud talking in Sindarin as an elf-guard came into view, who soon left with Ciertan right behind him. Cierdan turned to Lyrial. "We shall be leaving you alone for the next three hours."

She looked at him. "Alrighty then. Until later?"

"Until later." Cierdan turned on his heel and was out of sight.

Lyrial let her eyelids close around her amethyst orbs. She took calming breaths and relaxed her mind. _I want out_. _But where to go_ . . . ?

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* * *

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"Her hair looks quite soft. I want to touch it."

"Oh, good Valar. Aeluin, be quite."

The voices startled Lyrial, as she was unable to hear the accompanied footsteps. She had, although, recognized the second voice, and stood to her feet with a grin. "Princess Thranéal! I missed you. . ."

Thranéal returned her smile. "Just 'Thranéal' is fine. It is pleasing to see you again. I apologize for these unfavorable circumstances."

Lyrial briefly waved her hands in front of her. "Oh, no, don't apologize! What's done is done, and I thank you for the help you've given me."

"I just did not want you to come across something unsavory in an unknown world with no means of protection," the princess responded, thinking of orcs. "Anyways, this is Aeluin, mine and Thranduil's younger brother. He wanted to accompany me and formally meet you."

Lyrial's eyes met the ellon's, as he had been gazing at her curiously. She managed a small smile, "Hello," and shyly looked away. _What if he's more like the twig king_?

"Hello to you too," Aeluin greeted. "Please do not be shy, I am not here to secretly mock and berate you. I want to get to know you, and I will not judge you, lirimaer." _Ha, yeah, that's what they all say_. _Although his eyes speak the truth_. _Thranéal and Cierdan were nice_ . . . _Meh, I'll give him a chance_.

Lyrial's eyes met his again, but cocked her head to the side. "'Lirimaer?' What does that mean?"

Thranéal rolled her eyes at her brother's barely recognizable attempt at flirting with the use of that word.

He, however, smirked. "Not telling. You will have to find that out on your own."

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* * *

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"THRANDUIL!"

Thranéal barged into her brother's chambers with mixed emotions of fury and worry. She found Thranduil lying on his large bed and reading through a parchment containing a report of the border control. His crown was off and lying on the edge of his bed; his straight, soft flowing hair in somewhat disarray; his forest green tunic unbuttoned at the top, exposing a part of the Sindar's toned chest.

The Elvenking lazily rose to a sitting position with his legs draped over the side of his bed. "Thranéal, please knock. And why are you shouting?"

Thranéal ignored his question, stood in front of him, and spoke in Sindarin. "_It has come to my just recent attention, through Aeluin's slip of speech, of a resumption of assassination attempts_. _Why did you not tell me_?"

Thranduil ran a hand through his hair, freeing it from its disarray. "_Through actions, you have made it clear that you were angry with me, and did not want to be in the same room as me_. _I only wanted to respect that_."

She crossed her arms. "_To make that clear: I was, and still am, not angry at you, but at your actions regarding Lyrial_. _I avoided you so as to not unpredictably lash out at you_. _Despite that, you could have told me_!"

He abruptly stood from his bed and fixed his sister a glare of mixed emotions. "_I do not want you to get involved_! _I will not have you, nor any other elf, acquire injuries from an attack meant for me_. _Although I seem to have failed regarding those last few words_. . ."

"_It is not your fault that a few of the guards were killed in the process_. _They were honourable ellyn who_ –"

The Elvenking fixed her a bitter half-smile before smoothly interrupting her. "_Who were given a swift death before they could even fathom what was happening_."

Thranduil re-buttoned his tunic, picked up the briefly discarded parchment from his bed, and left his room.

Thranéal could have sworn she saw a healing sword-wound that stretched from under Thranduil's right jaw to the base of his neck.

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* * *

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A few days became a week and Lyrial remained in her cell throughout the time.

She would enjoy conversations with Cierdan, albeit having to ignore Ciertan's brief insults and glares. Thranéal and Aeluin would visit her, to which she found their company delightful. At times they would teach her a little Sindarin here and there. As she was now an elf, Lyrial felt pleasure in learning the elegant language, even if it was just a few words and phrases. When she was left alone; the amethyst-eyed elleth slept or sat staring at the not-so-interesting scenery of her cell, thinking of various things, or nothing at all.

On the second day of her visit, Thranéal had been kind enough to bring a couple of blankets and a pillow for Lyrial's comfort. Lyrial felt dirty, as she had not bathed within the week and had still wore the thin white dress. She was uncomfortably sticky, more so in certain areas, and her scalp was itchy. The elleth was, however, more than relieved when Cierdan offered to take her to a toilet room located somewhere within the dungeons whenever she had to do her business. _Oh, bless that elf_.

Thranduil had yet to request for her presence. Lyrial needed some way to persuade him to let her go. _I may, although, end up yelling at him_. . .

However; it was during the night of her eighth day in her cell that brought about her involvement in external affairs, leading to her release from the dungeons.

Lyrial had been pretending to sleep when she heard the following:

". . . kill . . ."

"Thranduil . . ."

". . . hour after lunch . . ."

". . . poisoned arrow."

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* * *

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Mellon Nîn – My Friend

Suil – Greetings

Ae – Hello

Muinthel – Sister (Family)

Muindor – Brother (Family)

Na Lû – Until Later

Naneth – Mother

Lirimaer – Lovely One

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